


lilac & violet

by humancorn



Series: Thranduil & Ana [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism that turns into On Purpose Voyeurism, Alternate Universe, Bathing/Washing, Dom Thranduil (Tolkien), Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Jealousy, Masturbation, Misunderstandings, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Porn with Eventual Plot, Possessive Behavior, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, The One Ring is Bad News, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29645061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humancorn/pseuds/humancorn
Summary: The first time it happens is not intentional on Boromir’s part. Ana had been plaguing his dreams every night for the last few weeks. In the beginning, Boromir was sure it was a fascination brought on by the sole fact that she was the only member of the company who was a woman, but as the dreams edged into fantasies - he found himself indulging in the images his brain would conjure as he took care of himself in his bedroll at night. So when he finds Thranduil fucking her the first time the fellowship stops to bathe, he's alittlefrustrated.Alternatively, the fic where Boromir unintentionally stumbles upon Thranduil and OC fucking and then proceeds to make a habit of watching them through their journey, discovering many things about himself and them along the way.
Relationships: Boromir (Son of Denethor II)/Original Female Character(s), Thranduil (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Thranduil & Ana [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178366
Kudos: 7





	lilac & violet

**Author's Note:**

> You may be saying, "Author, why are both Thranduil AND Legolas part of the Fellowship and how would that even work logistically??" The answer is that this is technically part of a longer, much more involved AU that I do not have the time or wherewithal to write right now and also just because I want them to be. Why not, right? 
> 
> This is entirely self-indulgent, as most of my Thranduil/OC fics are. I wrote this for myself and I'm not really looking for crit, constructive or otherwise.

The first time it happens is not intentional on Boromir’s part. The fellowship, at this point, had been on the road for nearly three weeks with little opportunity to rest or bathe, so when the opportunity presented itself in the form of a wide, relatively deep stream weaving through a rocky outcropping, they were all more than happy to take advantage of it. 

Gandalf had stayed behind at the camp, but every other member of the group had quickly shed their clothes and scrubbed them raw with soap before laying them out on the rocks that lined the riverbank. 

The hobbits are a bit downstream, chatting and scrubbing themselves down, Legolas and Gimli are arguing downways as well and Aragorn is keeping a close eye on them to make sure he’s there if he needs to intervene. This means Boromir is alone, a fact that suits him just fine. It also means that he is the only one who hears the slight, high-pitched noise that resonates from behind a bend in the river upstream. It’s just loud enough to be heard over the rushing of the water, just distinct enough for Boromir to pick it out among the voices of his other companions downstream. He’d know that voice anywhere. 

Ana had been plaguing his dreams every night for the last few weeks. In the beginning, Boromir was sure it was a fascination brought on by the sole fact that she was the only member of the company who was a woman, but as the dreams edged into fantasies - he found himself indulging in the images his brain would conjure as he took care of himself in his bedroll at night. 

By this point, Boromir has realized that he is hopelessly besotted in the worst kind of way. Each time he sees her, smiling across the camp, the firelight playing off of her features in a way that sets her skin aglow, he imagines her lips stretched around his cock, doe-eyed and beautiful as she takes him down her throat. 

He wonders, not for the first time, as he makes his way slowly upstream, how she would feel as he sinks into her, just what noises she would make as he teased her. He wonders if she would like it as rough as he does. 

They had been on the road for a long while and Boromir had not indulged in the company of a woman in what felt like  _ years.  _ He shakes his head and reminds himself that Ana is a  _ lady,  _ not some common harlot who would stoop so low as to offer herself without the surety of a formal courtship. You could tell just from looking at her - the easy grace in the way she moved, the formal lilting of her voice - she was noble, and she deserved to be treasured, not taken on the road by a man that had nothing to offer her apart from sweet words and open-ended promises.

  
  


Boromir sighs as he gets closer, edging slowly around the bend. He takes a glance back and realizes that he can no longer see the others around the bend of the stream. The water is deeper here, pooling up past his hips as he pokes his head around the last of the bend. 

He sees her and is stunned for a brief moment before ducking back behind the wall of rock and earth that hides him from view. Closing his eyes for a moment, he assures himself that he’s just checking to make sure she’s alright, that noise had been concerning - what if she’d been hurt? If he were to be  _ honest _ with himself he’d known exactly what he’d been doing from the moment he’d taken a step upstream. He takes a deep breath to settle his beating heart and tells himself that there is no harm in looking,  _ just for a few seconds, it isn’t like he’s going to do anything.  _

This scenario is straight out of one of his fantasies. He peeks around the corner again, taking in the smooth expanse of Ana’s back. Her skin is pale as moonlight, shimmering and wet and  _ perfect.  _ He startles a bit as he drinks in dark blue lines that arch and curve along her back, contrasting beautifully against her skin. He had not imagined that a woman of her youth and stature would have  _ tattoos,  _ but that is clearly what they are, and the artistry of it nearly takes his breath away. 

If this had been one of his fantasies, this would have been the moment she would have turned and caught his eye, beckoning him closer with a smile playing on her lips. Instead, he follows the curve of her back down to the swell of her ass, where the dark ink trails off into a tapered point, and he notices that she is very, very distinctly,  _ not alone.  _

She is sitting on someone’s lap, her thighs spread wide on either side of their hips, and while Boromir could not see the other person’s face, he knows exactly who it is, because he knows where everyone else is at the moment. Everyone except  _ Thranduil.  _ Boromir clenches his jaw as he watches Ana rise slowly, only to grind back down moments later, spine arching as she lets out a small, breathy  _ moan.  _ And  _ oh,  _ Boromir’s breath hitches and he can feel himself begin to stiffen below the water, because isn’t that better than anything his own brain had come up with in the past weeks? 

There are hands on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh so hard that Boromir is sure that when they are done, there will be bruises, and something about that annoys him. Ana leans down, covering the body under her with her own, and from the angle he’s in, Boromir can see a hint of the soft, pink folds of her pussy as Thranduil’s cock grinds up into her. The jolt of arousal that shoots straight to Boromir’s dick at the sight is somewhat concerning, to say the least. He shouldn’t be seeing this. He sure as hell shouldn’t be sticking around to watch. 

And yet, as he attempts to convince himself to leave, walk back downstream, and pretend this had never happened, Ana rises from her position in Thranduil’s lap and stands, repositioning herself. Boromir can now clearly see Thranduil, who also stands, following her as she turns away from him. She bends over and hikes one leg up on the riverbank, so clearly offering herself that Boromir does not have it in him to look away. It’s just too mesmerizing - the flush of red upon her inner thighs, the glistening,  _ inviting,  _ juices leaking from her pussy and trailing down her legs, it’s  _ too much.  _

Boromir is fully hard now, his erection straining up out of the water and arching toward his stomach. He takes himself in his hand as he watches Thranduil push two fingers into her, coaxing more of her juices into his hand. Thranduil smiles down at her as he lines himself up, rubbing the head of his cock through her folds. Boromir can hear her whimper, so tiny and broken, and closes his eyes for a moment to imagine himself coaxing those sounds from her as he gives his own cock a soft stroke. 

His eyes shoot open when he hears her moan, loud enough that when he focuses on the pair again, Thranduil has one of his hands wrapped around her mouth to keep her quiet. He’s fully seated inside of her, hips grinding hard against the soft flesh of her ass. At least, Boromir imagines it would be soft. Soft and smooth, just begging to be touched. Boromir bites back a groan as he thrusts up into his hand. 

Thranduil leans down along her back and Boromir can hear him whisper  _ something _ to her that makes her whimper into his hand. He takes the tip of her ear between his teeth and teases it, thrusts never wavering, and Boromir notes the fine tremble in Ana’s legs as he moves down her neck, pressing wet kisses in a trail along her skin. He stops at the join of her shoulder, smirking as he laves his tongue over her skin. Boromir watches, enraptured, as he sinks his teeth into her, hips snapping hard against her and she practically  _ screams.  _ Boromir can hear it, muffled as it is, and watches as she  _ melts  _ into him, legs wavering and giving out as shivers wrack her body. 

The Elvenking closes his eyes, a satisfied grin on his face as he supports her, fucking her through her trembling peak. He slows after taking in the last shudder of her orgasm, pulling out just long enough to lay her down on the riverbank before thrusting back in. They’re facing each other now, and Boromir can see half of Ana’s face - her mouth is open, gasping, gaze focused wholly on Thranduil as he takes his pleasure in her. Ana pulls her lover down for a kiss, moaning into it as Thranduil runs his hands over her. 

She looks  _ wrecked,  _ and in the end, that’s what does it for him. Boromir ignores the sounds coming from Thranduil as he builds up a steady pace, focusing on the needy moans and gasps coming from Ana as he thrusts into his own hand. He feels his peak building, building, just as hers had, and he watches her, takes in all of the flushed skin he can see as he spills into his fist with her name on his lips. All Boromir can think, as he’s coming down, is that she’s  _ beautiful.  _

He comes back to himself just in time to see Thranduil’s thrusts become erratic and shallow. The Elvenking bends down and captures Ana’s lips as his hips stutter, grinding inside of her, and stilling, finally, after a few moments. The bastard came inside of her. Boromir can’t tell if he’s pissed about it because she technically could get pregnant, which would be dangerous for their quest, or if he’s pissed that he wasn’t the one who got to fill her up, but the anger burns in his chest all the same. 

He leaves them in their afterglow, pissed off and spent, and he makes his way back downriver. He tells himself that he really shouldn't be surprised. The two of them had been close since the Fellowship had set out from Imladris. He just hadn’t expected Ana to be like  _ that _ if he was honest. If he had, he would have made his move far sooner. Maybe then he would have been the one fucking her into a shivering mess while Thranduil watched from the sidelines. 

Boromir cursed to himself as he stepped out of the river and hastily pulled his clothes back on, trying to wrest her from his mind.


End file.
